


Last Solution

by BrokePerception



Category: Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-01
Updated: 2012-06-01
Packaged: 2017-11-06 13:19:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/419354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrokePerception/pseuds/BrokePerception
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andy never would have thought to see her or hear her once again, let alone... work for her again, even if only momentarily. Andy/Miranda</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The adventure at _Runway_ hadn’t pulled them apart; it had only helped to get to the surface that Nate and she had long drifted apart. They had held on for about half a year longer after having gotten together again.

So she lived alone at the apartment which Nate and she had once shared now. She worked for the New York Times, having been contacted by their chief editor a day after her interview with the other newspaper… Of course she had at once accepted. In just half a year’s time, Andy had made it to one of the finest journalists ever having written for them.

Scrolling through her article one last time, Andy Sachs suddenly got interrupted by her cell phone. Keeping her laptop from falling with her right hand, she cast her gaze aside and reached for the vibrating little thing on the table beside the couch with the other, carefully avoiding to knock over her half full glass of red wine. She liked doing this sometimes: sitting there in the evening with just the light of the floor lamp beside the couch while running through her articles for one last time with a glass of wine from which she could sip occasionally.

She did miss the intimacy of someone else about her for sure, though. She was a very affectionate person, and what she missed the most was possibly Nate’s arms holding her as she rested. The bed somehow seemed too large for her alone.

She didn’t immediately recognize the unknown number. A rapid look at the clock in the right bottom corner of her screen confirmed it was close to nine in the evening. Curiously, she flipped open her mobile phone and held it to her ear. “Andrea Sachs,” she politely greeted the unknown person on the other end.

“My goodness! What took you so impossibly long to just take the phone?”

Andy’s eyes widened as she seemed to recognize the voice on the other end of the line. She couldn’t believe her own ears. “…Emily? How did you get my number?”

“You’ve kicked it to one of the ‘best’ New York Time journalists ever in the small period since you’ve left _Runway_. Your name is mentioned often enough, and if I mention _Runway_ or Miranda Priestley, it is not so hard,” she said as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Her voice sounded impatient and hurried as always.

Andy was momentarily speechless at the avalanche of words, and still – even though Emily’s argumentation was not weak – Andy wondered just how her former colleague had gotten her hands on her private cell phone number. She was very private if it came to that. Then again, in the less than a year she had worked with _Runway_ , she had come to find the name Miranda Priestley opened a lot of unexpected doors. She momentarily wondered if it was on her order that Emily was contacting her now and if not… if she even knew Emily had taken use of the privilege to mention her name.

“I never thought I’d hear you again…”

“I’m sure you never _hoped_ to hear me again. This is not for my own delight either, but right now I just see no other solution but to contact you. If there’d been any other, then I’d most certainly never even have dreamed of moving Heaven and Earth to get your number!” Her voice was clear as always, and it tickled Andy to know that at least it hadn’t been easy to get her private number.

“What solution?” Andy wondered.

“Yes well, let me finish and then you’ll know!” Emily said irritably. “Miranda fired another personal assistant yesterday, and there’s been looked for another one, and a new interim girl’s coming tomorrow, but my Dad called this afternoon to say that my Mum’s had a heart failure this morning, and so I’d like to go there tomorrow and stay until the day after, but I don’t dare leave the new assistant alone with no one there to supervise her…”

“Wait,” Andy said disbelievingly. “You want me to replace you for the time being?”

“Applause!” Emily said sarcastically. “I’m without any other solution.”

“Emily, I have another job now. I can’t just leave it until you’ve returned, just to go and act like Miranda’s assistant for a little while again!”

“I’m sure you can,” Emily spoke. “This is Miranda Priestley we’re talking about for dear heaven’s sake! I’m sure that they’ll make an exception for this once, and it is just for a few days at the most,” she said, rambling on in that same hurried tone that had gotten the ability to automatically cause stress with Andy over the near-year of having worked with her. Again she felt like a toy car of which the redhead had the remote.

Andy’s mind reeled. “Hold it, you just said for two days, and now… a few!”

“Two or a few!” Emily exclaimed. “Does it really matter?”

Andy sighed. “No, it doesn’t,” she said. “Whether it is for two days or a few or no matter how long, I’m not doing it this time. I’m done working for Miranda Priestley. I’ve worked for her long enough to know it is not the job for me. I’m happy with the job I have now, and I will not risk losing it for a momentary career switch again, despite how much I’d like to help you.”

“How much you’d like to help me?!” Emily shouted. “Right. You’re in fact my last option here, but no! I could have well lost my mother today. Now she’s lying in the hospital, and I’m not there with her. Dad’s going to be exasperated…”

Andy’s heart ached. She herself would go mental, even if it had not been her near family like her mother or her father but less close. She’d have wanted to be there as well… She sighed. “I can’t guarantee anything, but I’ll see what–“

“You’re the best! I knew that I could count on you!”

“Emily, wait!”

Beep… Beep… _Great._


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

She never would have thought to enter the building again. It seemed as if former coworkers had thought the same, for more than once others gazed after her in disbelief as she walked into the building and over to the elevators. She merely smiled at them… rather nervously – there had actually been only one time when she hadn’t been nervous to set foot there, and that… had been the very first time she had been there. She had not yet known of Miranda Priestly or how the term Ice Queen fit her so perfectly. She had not known a damn about _Runway_. She had not known just how much stress went on behind those doors just to please that woman. At the same time she wasn’t as nervous as she once had been there: the fact she knew this was temporary possibly made all the difference. She wouldn’t let that woman get to her this time.

She had nothing to lose: she already had a terrific job with the New York Times which left her earning quite a bit – more than she had ever earned at _Runway_. If it got too much, she could always leave. Yet, that wouldn’t be fair to Emily… Andy wondered whether Miranda knew about Emily’s temporary disappearance and about who was going to replace her for the time being. She settled on most likely not.

Andrea Sachs exhaled as she stepped onto the right floor and walked to Emily’s desk. She quietly assumed that Emily had contacted them all about the great switch already, considering everyone there seemed to know, reacting unsurprised to her appearance at _Runway_ again. Everyone merely smiled nervously at her instead of gawping after her like a bunch of morons like downstairs. It did not make her feel more comfortable, though… for it ensured they all feared for the same: Miranda… and especially, Miranda’s reaction.

She had at least been thoughtful enough not to arrive in her old fashion-less attires so as not to anger her more. Despite never having gotten the strength to throw them away yet either, she almost never wore those attires anymore. From the moment she had gotten to wear those clothes, Andy had immediately felt more beautiful and full of self-confidence than ever.

No, Andrea Sachs had never truly been the same anymore in appearance after the adventure at _Runway_ , although on the inside she never had allowed it to change her. That’s why she hadn’t chosen to keep the clothes from Paris. They were not her. They were too daring and too… well, attention seeking for her. So remaining true to herself, she had offered everything to Emily… who had greedily accepted despite having done her best not to let it show.

No, Andrea Sachs had found the right balance if it concerned only her appearance… if it concerned anything else as well really since having left her job as Miranda’s assistant. Her calm wouldn’t remain for long, though. Miranda and _Runway_ surely had the tendency to shake her world. At least she didn’t have a lover anymore who could suffer under the tension and odd hours.

Balancing the cardboard tray with Miranda’s customary coffee ordering on one hand – one no-foam skimmed latte with an extra shot and three drip coffees with room for milk; searing hot – she walked into the office area. Miranda’s personal driver had just texted her to say that she would arrive in fifteen minutes sharp, leaving Andy to wonder… Who else had Emily passed her private number on to? The text was followed by one of Emily, helping her not to forget about Miranda’s coffee ordering… She had only just passed the Starbucks nearest to _Runway_ , and so Andy had returned to get it before resuming her way to the office. She was still ten minutes early, she knew. The Starbucks and the office were not too far from each other: a shorter walking distance.

She quietly set the cardboard tray down on Emily’s desk before undoing her coat, hanging it neatly away with her purse and going into Miranda’s office, taking the tray with coffee.

Calmly walking to the table in the hallway in which she knew all newly arrived magazines lay – the ones that had arrived in the time frame Miranda hadn’t been there; thus since her departure from the office the day before – Andy gathered them and carried them to the Devil’s desk, laying them so that a portion of all covers could be seen – the way Miranda wanted it. Retrieving a small bottle from the refrigerator in the kitchen and snatching a glass off the tray against the wall in the office, Andy made sure a glass of cold water was waiting for her.

At that, Andrea suddenly heard the faint ding of the elevator, and knowing Miranda didn’t tolerate anyone in her office when she wasn’t there and had not invited them to do so, she hurried from the room and sat down behind her desk… Emily’s desk… whatever. Looking down at herself, she suddenly began to doubt about the knee-length marine blue silky dress she wore with the waterfall neckline and the pantyhose and high heeled black leather boots. A flash of her eyes toward her watch confirmed that indeed it had been fifteen minutes sharp. Where was the new second assistant?

Without looking, Miranda carelessly dropped her handbag on the desk, followed soon by another coat she had never seen… and Andy wondered how many coats the woman had. She advanced into the office without further ado, and Andy quietly took Miranda’s handbag and grey coat, stood and moved to carry them to their respective spots. “Emily!”

 _Crap._ Momentarily doubting, she chose not to let Miranda wait. Andy thought that letting her wait would be far worse than failing to have carried her belongings away in time. Leaving the handbag and the coat on the other desk, she walked into the office calmly, inhaling deeply.

As the sound of her heels onto the floor ceased, Miranda Priestly eyed her, and Andy could see a flash of shock and surprise pass over her still-beautiful features. Her mouth quietly opened for a second, then closed. A muscle twitched right beside it, and her lips slightly pursed before relaxing again.

Andy swallowed. This was no good. Miranda Priestly’s lips pursing was certainly no good. She easily gathered her voice again, though. “I’ve ordered some new scarves with Hermès which need be gathered as soon as possible. I need about ten dresses from Tommy Hilfiger, too. I certainly want them today, before two – otherwise I’ll be very disappointed. Find me three models for tomorrow as well, to arrive at nine in the morning: Brazilian, and slender and athletic of course; so no sizes ten or such, and certainly no mothers. Pregnancy leaves scars always whether immediately visible or not. That’s all.”

Her mind reeling with all information just received, Andy walked over to her office again. Sure she needed to get used to it all again with Miranda talking on and fast… and her not having the time to write it down.

Barely having set one foot in the direction of her desk, Miranda’s voice sounded. “Emily! I do want my coffee hot, not tepid or cold! Is it so much to ask?”


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The sound of high heeled boots made Andrea Sachs immediately redirect her gaze. Coming fashionably late wasn’t something Miranda condoned with anyone, and this female seemed to need be reminded of that at once or she wouldn’t last two days even… Andy would have imagined most of those who were about to come work for Miranda Priestly were the type of girls highly interested in fashion, like had been implicitly expected from her then as well. Their disappointed gazes already had told her enough first day…

However, even though she already had expected the type of girl with size six or eight and the latest fashion draped around their frame, a layer of makeup covering her face and maybe artificially colored hair in the right color to match her eyes and whatnot, who or what arrived was all she had imagined and not at all – even easily reaching over her expectations. She could only say that if the saying that went that all blondes were stupid was true, she was going to have a lot of stress in the few days ahead until Emily returned… Her hair was indeed artificially colored, in the most blond of blonds she had ever seen, cut in Cleopatra style very, very meticulously as if it had been done with a ruler and inhumanly straight – quite possibly artificially straight as well. Her too vivid blue eyes stood in sharp contrast to the layer of black kohl around her eyes: smudged in all the right spots to create perfect smokey eyes. The blue of her eyes was seemingly too blue to still be natural, and Andy assumed that she truly must be wearing contact lenses. Her lips were seemingly covered in red latex, and as she smiled Andy was nearly blinded by the too white teeth hidden by those lips. This girl was nothing but artificial. How old could she be: eighteen and just having left school?

As Andy’s eyes slid further down, her estimations about the new assistant – slightly altered since her appearance – were confirmed: unnaturally enlarged bosom and very slim Barbie-like waistline wrapped in a shiny silvery spaghetti strapped dress that was low-cut enough to expose the swells of her bosom and raise the suspicion that she was not wearing a bra… and yet tiny enough to ensure one could see her string if she bent over, too. Something strange told Andy this was a girl who didn’t consider boxers, regular panties or even thongs – let alone the granny panties she usually still wore for comfort underneath her fashionable attires. She knew that most wore strings even at that time of the month – something she’d never get.

The very high heeled blue suede boots reached over her knees, and somehow Andy was reminded of the movie Pretty Woman… The unbelievably large red leather handbag she carried in one arm was the size of what she considered as a weekend bag; the kind of bag you could put about thirty Chihuahuas in if you wanted.

Andy found herself speechless for a little moment. Realizing again where she was, for who she was temporarily working again and what she was supposed to do, she, however, recovered soon – within seconds. “Hi. I assume that you’re the new second assistant.”

The girl smiled possibly wider, flashing more of her extremely white teeth. “Indeed. I’m Ghisele.”

No family name was given then, and Andy decided not to dwell on it. “Right. Now, I’m Andrea, but everyone calls me Andy. I’ve worked here a while myself. Emily Charleston is not available for the time being, so I’m replacing her until then. Miranda has arrived already and has given me a list of things to do. I’ve put the easiest tasks on a paper for you, so as to minimize misunderstandings and make things go slightly faster. If there’s anything that Miranda hates, it is all that makes you seem incompetent in fulfilling wishes for her, whether the cause of it does lie within your power or not… whether caused by misunderstanding or carelessness. She doesn’t care about these details – she only cares about results and about them being seen very fast. She doesn’t tolerate tardiness or laziness–” She stopped talking upon realizing that the other participant of the conversation didn’t seem to be listening anymore anyway. Ghisele’s head had turned to the side in the direction of Miranda’s office, and a small nearly unperceivable blush could be seen painted on the young girl’s cheeks.

Quirking an eyebrow, Andy stood from her seat, leaning over her desk just far enough to be able to see Miranda though the glass doors of her office: sitting behind her desk, the receiver of her busy phone against her ear and her lips moving in conversation. She could swear that Miranda’s eyes were trained on the new assistant and that a small smile unrelated to the conversation at hand adorned her thin lips.

Slowly leaning back until she sat once more, Andy’s eyes redirected to the new assistant. Right. She cleared her throat, catching the new assistant’s attention again, and handed over the paper with the addresses of where Miranda’s Hermès scarves waited to be gathered and where the assistant designer of Tommy Hilfiger was waiting to select ten autumn-y dresses. Andy had contacted him already about sending the new assistant. She would take care of the phone and getting the desired models in the meantime…

A look upon the little paper and an added, “As soon as possible, please” from Andy and the new assistant nodded and left without any other word. Strange girl.

Just as the sound of the boots disappeared and Andy wanted to turn back to contacting more modelling bureaus, Miranda’s raised voice rang until where she sat – Miranda shouting rarely happened. She could make her dissatisfaction known without needing to open her mouth. “How do you dare to get her to replace you…? How do you dare leave your job like that! I do remember telling you I never wanted to see her again! You don’t ever have to return either.” Silence.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Even though the conversation which Andy had overheard – it truly had been impossible enough not to – Miranda had been... civil to her mostly. Maybe Miranda had realized, even though the results had not always been there in the ways she wanted, Andy was possibly one of the assistants who had done truly her utmost to achieve. Indeed, Andy had left her, but until then she had done her best to fulfil Miranda’s every wish though impossible it might have seemed. She still vividly recalled the struggle for the new Harry Potter manuscript for the twins... She had succeeded that time, though.

The new assistant Ghisele was someone very eager to learn and seemed to get things very easily. The notes appeared to help even though she never said so, and Andy... was proud of herself, knowing for sure that her little reminders were possibly the reason why all was running smoothly. Maybe that’s why Miranda hadn’t had her banned.

That Tuesday night, Andy had tried to contact Emily a few times, but her phone always had been off, the same the next day. The feeling of guilt had tampered a little already over three days but still it was there. Andy thus had no idea when Emily would be returning and whether or not she herself would have to be on call that weekend or still Andy. 

That was until Emily herself called to say that she would return Saturday morning, and thus Andy wouldn’t have to be on call anymore, for she herself would take care of it. Andy would have imagined her in tears and very depressed, but Emily had sounded... normal as she thanked Andy for having done this for her, no word about where she had been in three days. Andy assumed she must have gathered herself – momentarily for the call or not – and realized that maybe if Andy still worked there even though temporary regardless of the thing in Paris, Miranda would have brain enough to accept her back as well upon returning. The phone call was ended before Andy could ask anything more about what or how.

The days were long, and she would be happy to return to journalism. However, she had one last thing to do that Friday night before she could put an end to her temporary career switch to _Runway_ again... The Book.

Remembering the level of invisibility required from her upon setting foot in Miranda’s town house, Andy walked on her toes to the closet across the staircase to hang away the clothes she had gotten from the drycleaner’s. Her behavior was ridiculous, yet this was the last time she would work for Miranda Priestly – the last thing that... A smile already graced her features as she neatly placed the book on the table with the flowers she now knew to be the right one. Turning around, she made to leave again when suddenly she could hear a sound from upstairs. Maybe Miranda’s twin daughters... or maybe they were with her ex. She didn’t know really. According to her schedule, Miranda had no commitments that night and thus could very well be home. However, Miranda always voted for silence; even chose remarking in silence over yelling unless she was really, really furious – a Miranda no one was keen on meeting.

She halted for a moment, pondering about going upstairs. Upon finding it would be too risky, particularly recalling the last time she had gone to the mighty upstairs, she advanced to leave. At that point, however, she could hear the same sound again... and she knew what it must be then. Someone was sobbing and crying heartbreakingly just a floor higher. Could it be Miranda? She’d found her in a not so happy situation there already once before – not specifically upstairs then, but still...

She was not there by Miranda’s personal driver but by her company car – public transportation she no longer used. The thought of Miranda possibly being the one crying heart-wrenchingly upstairs made Andy halt again. She swallowed and thought. She had basically nothing to lose. She was not the type of person to leave someone else in heartache and pain no matter what form, and that nature pulled too strongly to let the possibility of Miranda being pissed off at her – as usual – overtake it. Andy couldn’t help her heart from hammering as she slowly walked up the stairs, though. Every step higher convinced her more somehow that indeed, it was Miranda crying and that this was the right decision to take.

As she reached the top of the stairs, the sound seemed to quiet yet at the same time it still ringed in her ears somehow louder than ever before. Turning her head from the left to the right, she wondered where to go, instinct telling her to turn right... and so she did and walked to the end of the landing to an open door. Light spilled from it into the hallway. She deeply inhaled and walked toward the doorway, finding the room seemingly vacant. “Miranda?” she called, setting her first foot inside the little office – it reminded Andy a bit of Miranda Priestly’s office at _Runway_.

She walked a few feet further and turning her head aside, found the great Miranda Priestly curled up in an armchair. Her otherwise neatly dressed hair was wet and stood on end, and her blue eyes were seemingly unseeing, rimmed by red and wetness. She wore such what seemed to be an ugly navy blue, oversized sweater several sizes too large for her... definitely not the type of clothing Miranda Priestly could ever be anticipated to be seen in... but neither was the state in which she seemed to be. Miranda’s legs were curled up against her, the sweater pulled over them so it looked more like a dress. Her right hand was wrapped around her knees as her left dangled beside the armchair... a nearly drained bottle of dark whiskey clutched in it in a vice grip. Andy could see it by the way her knuckles were slightly whiter than the rest of her hand. The sight alarmed and even scared Andy. It merely rendered her speechless, with no idea what to do. She could feel her pulse beat at her temple, the feeling of shock increasing it and weighing down on her so all possible options were flattened... She could merely stare. Strangely enough, Miranda didn’t seem to mind or even notice, and Andy wondered how much she must have already consumed... Had it been a full bottle when she had begun on it? How long ago had she begun drinking? How long had she already sat there? ... What was the reason? Andy had seen Miranda down many a glass of expensive Champaign... but never more than one glass at each occasion.

She suppressed the urge to reach her hand up to cover her mouth with it in utter shock and surprise. Without preamble, tired red rimmed eyes suddenly lifted to her and thin pink lips moved. Andy had to strain to hear her. “I haven’t always been who I am now,” Miranda said. “I was plain, totally fashion-less, unbelievably fat and overall meaningless. This,” she pointed at the sweater, “is still a reminder of that time. At age twenty-two, I chose the time for a change had arrived. It cost me blood, tears and sweat to be who I am now. I have other worries, but I still have them, and I wonder if I truly am happier now than I was then. Is no partner truly worse than scaring one away after six weeks, despite having so much to offer?”

Andy’s eyes widened at the spilled confession from thin lips, and her mouth opened, but no sound left it. Upon the looks of insanity written on the faces of the other workers upon her admission she didn’t know who Miranda Priestly was, she had looked up a few things about her, and the earliest information of the woman before her was from her being aged twenty-six. She must have worked for four years to become from who she’d been to who she was now then.... She had somehow suspected that Miranda hadn’t always been that way – hence her break-through at a slightly older age than most in that department.

Suddenly her normal self again annoyance-wise, Miranda quirked an eyebrow at the younger woman. “Go home, Andrea. Leave and never look back. That’s what you want to do.”

“With all due respect, Miranda.... but you don’t know what I want. In fact, you don’t know me at all.”


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Andy bit down on her bottom lip in thought, no idea what to do. Miranda Priestly rarely if ever showed herself in this state. Who would actually know just how to behave with her right then? A sigh slipped from her lips. Eventually, she slowly neared the elder woman in the armchair and squatted, reaching for the bottle of whiskey. Miranda’s hold on it momentarily tightened upon it, showing itself well in her knuckles discolouring white even more. “Miranda...” However, as Andy’s warm hand covered hers, the younger of them could feel her grip slacken and not much was then needed anymore to pry the bottle of spirit from her. Andy stood and extended her hand for Miranda to take, to help her upright again.

However, the grey haired woman eyed her with disgust and disbelief. “I don’t need you,” she stated. “Now, leave me!” As she said this, she reached for the bottle again, but Andy managed to pull it from reach only just in time. Miranda’s eyes blazed upon looking at her former second – and first, somehow – personal assistant. Arm sliding down from her knees, she quietly lowered her feet to the floor, the old ragged sweater inching up slightly as she did. Pushing herself upright with her hands upon the armrests, Miranda Priestly stood, a few inches lower than the younger woman. Momentarily wavering, she forced herself to remain upright.

That was not something that happened often – she usually wore heels high enough to tower over basically everyone. This time, Miranda’s feet were bare, leaving Miranda being towered over for once. The younger woman was already taller by about two inches, and the heels which she wore accentuated Andy’s height more.

That was no situation Miranda could bear. “Leave,” she repeated with as much bitterness she could possibly muster then. With one last disgusted look, Miranda turned away and left the little office. Andy’s head turned, and she watched as the elder woman uneasily walked across the hallway to what she assumed to be her bedroom. Darkness disabled her from catching a fleeting little look of what lay beyond the door before it slammed shut again. The request was clear. Andy’s will to stay was stronger.

Setting the bottle of spirit down on the table beside the armchair, Andy quietly turned, following her. Upon knocking at the door to Miranda’s bedroom, as anticipated no sound was heard, until she could swear the sobs of earlier had resumed. “Miranda? Please...” She couldn’t bear it any longer. She didn’t know why Miranda could make her feel like that regardless of who she was and how she behaved, but that she did. She couldn’t just leave... not her, somehow. Fingers falling on the cold doorknob and curling about it, she slowly opened the door to the bedroom of Miranda Priestly, the light from the other room spilling across the hallway into it even though only barely – enough for Andy to be able to see the figure of the elder woman lined against the darkness; facing away while curled up on her side in bed, shaking slightly. Andy swallowed at the pitiful sight of Miranda Priestly like this.

Advancing slowly toward the bed, Andy sat down on the edge of it… just waiting. “Miranda?” Andy’s eyes closed as her feelings and mind fought over what she could and should do. Her feelings beating her mind as usual, she toed off her heels and lay in bed beside her.

Instead of harsh language, a hollow sob could be heard in the quietness, and Andy  encountered difficulties not to give in to wanting to just reach over and pull her incrementally closer or shuffle nearer herself and wrap her arm around the older woman and make her feel safe. Instead, Andrea Sachs listened intently to the older woman’s shallow yet irregular intake of air.

They just lay there for long minutes, until Andy could no longer fight her reason and reached to lay her warm hand on Miranda’s arm. When she didn’t feel the older woman stiffen or her breath catch or anything else that indicated she wasn’t comfortable with the situation – which was so uncharacteristic for her that it actually became creepy, she shuffled somewhat closer, so that she was finally spooning the elder lady. Her hand did not move, though. Silence overtook, but not the uncomfortable kind – the kind of silence which heals.

Miranda’s voice sounded all of a sudden, rough and very quiet, “I haven’t really done anything like this for a while…”

Andy’s mind reeled. Hadn’t she said that…? “Has no one…?” Her eyes focused intently on Miranda, and she could see her shake her head in the pillow, then suddenly felt her shoulders shake underneath her hand. The younger woman damned herself for her insatiable curiosity and voicing her quiet disbelief, shuffling slightly closer still and finally wrapping her arm around the older lady, pulling her against her own body.

Miranda only began shaking harder at the contact, it seemed. Andy thus maneuvered her other arm slowly underneath the older woman’s head somehow, the fingers of her right hand entwining with hers. For a little while, Miranda actually seemed to enjoy the embrace… until she began to uncomfortably squirm.

“I’m sorry,” Andy whispered, momentarily tightening her hold. “I just…” and then the truth spilled unbidden from her. “I… I love you. I didn’t mean to make you cry… or cry harder, whatever.” The sobs and tears seemed to only increase as she held the elder woman, and thus against all her urges and instinct, she slowly disentangled from Miranda as the latter stiffened. “I won’t keep you where you don’t want to be,” Andy added, letting go and shuffling away, making to slip from the bed and leave. She tried not to give in and actually sob herself at the feeling of loss that consumed her. It broke her heart watching Miranda cry, knowing that she did not feel comfortable enough with the younger woman or anyone to share her tears, thus carrying it all alone.

And then the older woman reached back with one hand, searching for Andy’s. At first, Andy just lay there gazing, with incredulity. Slowly, she then reached her hand forward so as to allow Miranda to take it and squeeze it. “H-Hold me,” she begged, her voice so broken. A tear slipped from her eyelashes as she eyed Miranda Priestly, finally collapsed under the life she lead, her behavior nothing like that of the woman that everyone feared… stripped from all she was or maybe had been.

Andy did the only thing she could think of right then: she obliged, sliding on her back and carefully guiding Miranda to lie half atop half beside her. She tenderly ran one hand across the older woman’s lower back in a warm soothing fashion, the other stroking the back of the hand that motionlessly lay on her left bosom, her nose buried in soft grey hair.

“You truly must love me for me,” she whispered. “Otherwise, you would have long left already.”

Andy nodded, the shock of that realization not quite dissipated. There was no other possible reason as to why she couldn’t just leave… as to why she ached when the other woman ached. “Yes,” she replied in a gentle tone. “Insofar as loving you for you goes. I don’t want you for the load of money you… most likely have or your fame, Miranda. I just… I don’t know; maybe want to make you happy.” Her tone was soft and honest as her warm hand drifted up and ran through the grey hair she didn’t really mind the elder woman having. She tenderly kissed it, guiding Miranda to lie entirely atop of her. Andy momentarily wondered if maybe she had gone too far too fast. She had… crawled into bed with Miranda Priestly and confessed loving her truly… and was holding her in bed.

“You’re…” Miranda began. “You’re the best that ever happened to me,” she finished, lying her head down on the younger woman’s full bosom, arms snaking to her shoulders, gently lying atop of them as she grew more comfortable in the embrace.

At that, Andy’s eyes watered. The Ice Queen had a heart after all… and had opened it for her. The unlikeliness of the situation overwhelmed Andy for sure. This was so unlike the Miranda parading at _Runway_ and basically anywhere else that it might have been comical. However, one rarely is the same with everyone. Remaining true to oneself alters according to situation. Imagine being in the company of a child versus your boss or your lover. Whereas all might come from the very same person, they show other sides to other settings. No one is entirely good or bad either. Andy somehow had imagined that all of Miranda couldn’t possibly be so unrealistically bitchy, but how easily Miranda could set and keep the façade was truly uncanny.

Her sweater had bunched up a little to linger just above her behind. Andy’s one hand held the older woman steady atop of her, as the other carefully reached for her lower spine. Miranda’s breath caught slightly as soft fingertips touched her bare back, but she grew more comfortable as the younger woman began to gently massage. She buried her nose in the younger woman’s neck, occasionally releasing near-moans of delight and pain – Andy assumed she must have been curled up on that armchair for a while until she had suddenly intervened. “That’s better,” Miranda whispered, the sigh that eschewed from her reminding of a feeling called home.

Andy quietly resettled under the elder woman, her hands coming to stillness, as her leg began to sleep in the awkward embrace. She slowly lifted the other, cursing inside herself as Miranda hissed softly, the younger woman’s thigh rather accidentally moving between hers and finding her most intimate of spots. Andy immediately lowered her leg on the mattress again.

She could feel her skin tingle as Miranda expelled her breath right beside her ear, panting lightly. She must not think of how nice the sound of Miranda’s hiss had felt there, of how she liked being huddled up with her in bed, and… Miranda most likely even had no idea what she did to her. Andy doubted whether Miranda even tolerated that kind of… lesbian relationship. Andy for sure was not lesbian – she had never felt anything toward women in that way, until Miranda… and Miranda herself had never been with any woman either – magazines would have published, but they hadn’t. So…

Andy quietly turned her head aside as Miranda momentarily lifted hers, and they looked in each other’s eyes. Andy tenderly kissed the patch of skin right beside Miranda’s mouth, resting her cheek against the older woman’s. She didn’t know what to say or what to do. She’d never kissed another woman. She’d never been this close to Miranda Priestly… What she felt and thought and wanted… and needed entirely clashed then… She felt so embarrassed. Miranda was the one leaning down to kiss her mouth in return, and even though the gentleness of the kiss, a rush of anticipation and lust and love rushed through the younger woman, and she instinctively bucked up, her thigh thrusting in Miranda’s centre as the same motion caused Miranda’s knee to fall between hers. They both released gasped moans, their eyes locking together lustfully as Andy fell to the mattress again. Neither woman had ever felt such ecstasy coursing through their veins until then, but hell – did it feel right. Miranda’s head dropped in the crook of Andy’ neck. “Please…” she crooned, not knowing what she begged for really. “I love you, too…”


	6. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

As they both lay basking in afterglow in Miranda’s large bed, gazing up at the ceiling with satisfied smiles – even Miranda… – life couldn’t have been any better. The woman that lay beside her seemed someone else entirely to Andy, and it left her wondering whether all of her intimate companions had seen this side of the Ice Queen. Momentarily, Andy had wondered which side was the façade then, considering how easy she could actually ‘change’ into the one or the other – both might have been the real her. Could it be named a ‘real Miranda’? Were both sides her depending on the context and the company maybe?

A sigh slipped past her lips as her head fell upon the elder woman’s shoulders. She could vaguely feel warmth so unlike Miranda Priestly cover her hand and without looking she knew this touch. It had been familiar since their very first sexual encounter. She quietly turned her hand and held onto Miranda’s.

It had been about two weeks since Miranda and she had ended up in bed together. Despite their having been hesitant, it had still been mind-blowing and unforgettable… the beginning of something new, something amazing. Andy vividly recalled how her mind had reeled as Miranda had kissed her or she Miranda – she had never known. It had run in different directions, not a few leading to questions about how and what… and why. She had not laughed about Andy’s ridiculous underwear – which hadn’t even matched that day like so often for her and unlike Miranda.

Andy had wondered if maybe the alcohol combined with her loneliness might have driven Miranda to do what she had, and if maybe she should put a stop to it before the very last shred of reason had slipped away in the wake of the rest as their embrace grew more intimate and intense, leading to the point of no return.

However, soon enough every shred of reason had flown from her mind, and Andy had reacted to her body’s impulses… leaving her entirely exhausted and falling asleep beside her. Upon waking, Miranda had still been there, looking at her through a haze of hangover. Andy assumed she must already have been hanging over the toilet pot and vomiting, considering she certainly looked as if she had been awake for a while and on the verge of vomiting again. Andy had wanted to flee, but Miranda had stilled her by putting a hand on her arm and pushing her back, before cuddling up beside her.

Andy had allowed herself the momentary respite. Around noon, she had, however, told her that she needed to go home to get showered and into clean clothes… Miranda having asked her, nearly having begged her to come back… So Andy had the very same evening, to check on Miranda – though her mind had been on the scintillating encounter that had still had her body humming with satisfaction and desire as well. A second one had ensued and a third one later that same evening.

In the two weeks that followed, Andy had left for work from Miranda’s town house multiple times and by now, about half of her belongings still were at her own apartment and the rest with Miranda. Despite especially the latter’s rather busy schedule, they still had quite some time together. A part of Andy feared the next trip abroad that would leave her alone again. She didn’t know whether she could do it or not. She didn’t know when it would be… She… It still was so new and exciting… and confusing. She still had so many questions running through her but somehow there were so many that they could not be voiced anyway.

No headlines about a metamorphosis of Miranda Priestly had been published yet, so while Andy was back to her real job again, she assumed Miranda was still just as icy cold and demanding as ever while at _Runway_. She had always been the same there despite marriages and divorces. Why should Andy be any different? A feeling of being the next in line overcame her, and one question pressed to the tip of her tongue, spilling from her lips as she opened her mouth. “Have you had many women?”

Even though Andy knew this Miranda was not the icy cold one and rather associated with warmth instead, the ‘rules’ which she had had to abide by concerning Miranda Priestly at _Runway_ still were not so far away whenever she was with her no matter how different she might actually be: no questions, no stupidities… She turned her gaze aside, sucking her bottom lip under her teeth in hesitance at what expression she would be met with. To her surprise, a soft smile actually laced Miranda’s features. “No,” she said. “I have not had many women.”

“How many?” Andy’s curiosity spoke.

“One.”

“Oh.”

A soft laugh escaped Miranda’s lips as she quietly leaned in, kissing her love’s lips… ensuring her that she had nothing to fear. As they slowly parted, Andy’s brow was furloughed together in thought. “What are you pondering about?”

“Oh… nothing of great importance. I just…”

Miranda tenderly reached forward, tucking loose wisps of hair behind Andy’s ear. “You’re not the very first woman I’ve had this kind of feelings for, but you are the first that I’ve shared the bed with in my whole life. One doesn’t really expect women in high ranking positions to be gay or bisexual or even bi-curious… despite the changing mentality about all that’s not-heterosexual.”

Andy was slightly surprised at the slang terms falling from Miranda’s mouth and at the same time not at all considering who she was. All was true enough, though. Not many women in high raking positions were not heterosexual. “Did no woman ever show you their interest… you know, in that way?” Andy asked, in disbelief.

“Oh, there have…” Miranda replied. “However, most of them I assume mistook their what they called love for sickly admiration. Few I assume would have liked me for me.”

“Who couldn’t like you for you? I rather believe that one wouldn’t like your part at _Runway_.”

“I have no doubt about that, Andrea… but you forget that most people are blinded by what I’ve achieved. Few read through that and most only ever know me from pictures and articles… and not by how I behave or rather have to behave to get anything achieved at all. I, however, assume that I’ve always been fair despite often harsh.”

“Fair? Impossible, you mean.”

A silence fell between both women until eventually Miranda rolled on her side beside Andy… still holding onto her hand with hers, while supporting her head with her other one. “Have you had many women then?” she asked, despite already knowing the answer.

“None… until you.”

A slight smile crossed the elder woman’s face again. All remained quiet for a few more heartbeats. “I’m leaving _Runway_.”

Andy immediately sat upright in bed and turned to the elder woman in shock. “You… _what_? Why? When?”

“I’ll be there until I’m sure that Emily can take over properly. I’m sure that she would do fine as the chief editor of _Runway_ , and maybe it is time for a new face and more time for me. I’ve already missed most of my daughters’ youth… Besides, now I’ve eventually found a bit of happiness in my life, I won’t let go… and I would like to enjoy it fully. That is, if you want to do the same.”

“You would give up your job at _Runway_ for me?” Andy asked again in disbelief. “Who else… knows?”

“I would have left sooner rather than later anyway. The time does not stop, nor does evolution or human need to see change happen. Only you, my dear.”

Andy fell back in the bed with a sigh of thoughtfulness. “This is not what… I would have dreamed of at all. I had hoped that maybe you would take me with on some of your trips abroad or minimize them, I don’t know… but this certainly was not it.” She knew that with this… Andy had admitted a great deal.

“What did you dream of in the long term or have you not really thought about it yet?”

“I…” Andy began. She had had quite a few of the wildest dreams, but at the very same time really thinking about anything in depth she hadn’t done yet. She chose to reply with the most honesty she could muster somehow. “I’ve… I’ve always wanted to get married in a beautiful white dress and have some children, but…” In those wildest dreams Andy had dreamt of having both and more with Miranda, but she had chased them away as soon as impossible.

Another smile twitched at Miranda’s lips. “Then we’ll do that.”

Andy’s eyes budged even more. “Who are you and what the hell have you done with Miranda Priestly?”

A smile was her only response. “Maybe ask what you’ve done with her. I’ve never felt happier than in the last two weeks with you, Andy.”


End file.
